


Unfinished Business

by hpdm4ever, MessiFangirl (hpdm4ever)



Series: El Clásico [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: El Clásico, FC Barcelona, Football | Soccer, M/M, Real Madrid CF, Traditions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-11-10
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/hpdm4ever, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hpdm4ever/pseuds/MessiFangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the long awaited sequel to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/3369968"> Winners Take it All.</a> I'm aware that the previous story is not necessarily everyone's cup of tea, what with the particular tags and subject matter. </p>
<p>That said, if you're just interested in Leo and Cristiano's storyline, I recommend reading the first and last chapters of "Winners Take it All" before reading this. You'll get the gist without having to deal with other pairings or potentially triggery material.</p>
<p>(Of course, if you haven't already, please let me know what you thought of it. Honestly, the final chapter of "Winners Take it All" is my most favorite Cris/Leo scene out of everything I've written!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written after Real Madrid lost 2-1 to Barcelona in March 2015. Goals scored by Luis Suárez and Jérémy Mathieu for Barcelona, and Cristiano Ronaldo for Real Madrid.

Cristiano's phone has been buzzing nonstop since he turned it on, but there hasn't been a single person he's wanted to talk to. Not after a loss like this. The name that appears now is no exception, and for a second Cristiano's finger hovers over the ignore button. But he can't bring himself to do it. "What?" he says gruffly, flopping down onto the bed, wishing he was home in Madrid instead of this dinky hotel room in Barcelona.

"Hey," Leo says softly, with Cristiano barely able to be hear around the noise on the other end. "I just wanted to talk about the celebration tonight... I was thinking--"

But Cristiano cuts him off. "Are you serious? What the fuck do you want with me?" he asks furiously. Every time he closes his eyes he sees his shot bang off the crossbar, hears the clang, feels the misery running through his body once again. "I scored, proof that at least someone on my team was in the game." He doesn't name names, doesn't mention the missed chances. Leo was there, Leo knows what happened.

He throws a water bottle across the room, aiming at the television where he's turned on highlights to continue to torture himself. It smacks into the picture and falls harmlessly to the floor. Overall, it's not very satisfying. "Fuck."

Leo is quiet for a moment on the other end. "Oh," he says, "that's not why--"

"Look Leo," Cristiano says, interrupting him again. He pinches the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I know you're probably still angry about what happened last time..." Cristiano huffs, remembering how things had gotten out of hand. And *out of hand* was putting it lightly. "And I can't blame you, really I can't...," he says, tone softening, wishing that Leo was actually in the room with him instead of on the phone. "But don't take that out on me. It's not fair that you picked me for tonight." 

And he hates the whiny tone that sneaks into his voice at the end, he hates it. But he's right, and he knows he's right, and Leo's just being petty if he makes Cristiano Real Madrid's scapegoat.

"Cristiano," Leo says firmly. "It's Bale." The sounds in the background have all but disappeared and Cristiano surmises that Leo has found a quieter room. "We picked Bale. And your captains agreed."

Cristiano lets out a sigh of relief, still angry but now confused. "Oh," he says, "why are you calling me then?" He thumps a few pillows and sticks them behind his back, kicking his shoes off and crossing his feet at the ankles as he tries to get comfortable. Suárez flashes across the screen, and he wants to scream. He half heartedly fumbles around for the remote, but gives up seeing that it's just out reach. "I'm not exactly up for a heart to heart right now. And if you've called to gloat..."

Leo breathes into the phone. "It's just," he says softly, "I wanted to talk to you. There wasn't time earlier--not for everything I wanted to say. And, I think, maybe, we... that is, you and I have unfinished business." The words tumble out slowly, as if Leo's unsure if Cristiano will agree with him.

But Cristiano does agree. 

He just doesn't know how to take that. Leo's right, of course he's right. Their relationship has always been complicated. 

Last time maybe even complicated it more. 

Cristiano remembers every second of it--from start to finish. 

Every touch. 

Every kiss. 

Every moan. 

The way Leo cuddled up to him at the end.

And then how they barely spoke the next morning.

And how they haven't *really* spoken until this very minute.

But Cristiano's still so angry about losing that he can barely think straight.

"Could you, maybe," Leo continues cautiously, "maybe come with Bale tonight?"

It's Cristiano's turn to be silent. 

"I just think that we should... talk," Leo says, when Cristiano doesn't reply. The last word is hesitant, and clearly not what Leo meant to say, loaded with meaning.

Cristiano laughs. "You mean me and Gareth at the same time?" He shuts his eyes. "Getting a little greedy, aren't you? Wanting two of us at your mercy?" He considers it for half a second. "I don't think so."

"No, no," Leo is quick to correct him. "Not like that." He sounds amused. "I--I wouldn't want that... And you wouldn't--won't--be involved in that. I told you, it's just Bale."

Cristiano bites his lip. "And aren't you going to be a little busy with Gareth?" he asks mockingly. "I'm not just going to wait around for hours until you're finished." His blood quickens for a second as he imagines it--Leo coming to him flushed and sated, brimming with afterglow while Cristiano's been sitting alone at Barcelona's victory party.

"I'm not participating," Leo says instead. "Not this time." He doesn't sound all that torn up about it.

And Cristiano can't imagine it, can't imagine Barcelona celebrating without Leo. "You're not?" He's honestly surprised. Leo may not have scored, but he was absolutely part of the reason for Barcelona's victory--assist aside.

"No, I think..." Leo mutters under his breath before continuing. "Luis and Jérémy, and Ivan and Geri. Geri can't shut up about it, and Luis is acting like he's going to let him do what he wants... so, Xavi's in charge." Leo laughs. "I mean, Xavi's always in charge, but we thought he'd be able to keep Geri in line, you know?"

Cristiano hums in agreement, thinking hard. He doesn't really feel like moving. Doesn't feel like doing anything. And he certainly doesn't feel like having to see Barcelona celebrating...

"I didn't want-- I just--," Leo sobers. "Will you come?" he finally asks again, as sounds start to pick up around him. Cristiano can hear Alves yelling and someone trying to shush him. "I always meant to... to call you. But I just couldn't..." He sighs. "Please, Cristiano. Come," Leo says again, this time firmly, losing the softness that usually colors his voice, and sounding more like he's giving an order than making a request. 

Cristiano's words slip out before he realizes it. "Fine, I will." For a second he regrets it, still angry and exceedingly tired, really regretting that he'll have to see the smug faces of all those Barcelona players gloating about their victory, but he shakes it off. 

He's fucking Cristiano Ronaldo-- and he'll walk into that house with his head held up high.

But first, he needs to change.


	2. Chapter 2

Gareth looks like he's just rolled out of bed--he's wearing a plain t-shirt and track pants. But Cristiano guesses that he's just going to roll back into one and lose the clothes anyway, so it probably doesn't matter. 

Cristiano, on the other hand, dresses as if he were the one holding the party. If he's going to be seen, then he's going to be seen the way he wants. That means an expensive sports jacket that's perfectly tailored over a classic, white button down. He has on plain jeans, but his shoes are as shiny as his watch. All in all, the outfit probably costs more than most people make in a year.

But he looks good. And that's what's important.

Gareth doesn't mention it, though Cristiano saw him give the clothes a once over.

In fact, they don't speak for most of the drive over to Piqué's house. Cristiano hadn't explained about Leo's request. He simply said he had to talk to somebody at the party. 

Gareth hadn't asked any questions. He'd just nodded and they'd both gotten into the car.

What's there really to say? 

Cristiano can't look at Gareth without thinking of the missed chances during the game. He taps the steering wheel of the borrowed car aimlessly, gritting his teeth to keep from ranting. And deep down he knows it's not all Gareth's fault. But sometimes Cristiano feels like he's the only one up front for the team.

Gareth ignores Cristiano, clearly very nervous about what's going to happen tonight. He shuts his eyes, resting his head on the window while his fingers twitch nervously in his lap.

Cristiano wonders if Leo was the one to call him. Or if anyone told Gareth who would be involved tonight. He guesses not, since the Welshman is so nervous. He wonders if Gareth should be. After all, none of the Barcelona players are really that violent... With the exception of Suárez and his teeth. But then again, Cristiano's seen with his own eyes how these celebrations can get out of hand.

He remembers the look Iker had on his face when the keeper brought his palm down sharply on Leo's skin. And the glint that appeared in Karim's and then Isco's eyes when they held Leo down and ignored his pleas for them to stop. The way Leo had trembled afterwards...

Maybe Gareth is right to be worried.

Security waves the car through once they see Cristiano's at the wheel. He continues down the long driveway and parks, the borrowed car looking pathetic next to the expensive cars of the Barcelona players. "Ready?" Cristiano asks Gareth, turning the engine off and trying to gain his courage.

Gareth shrugs, but follows Cristiano and gets out. Cristiano can tell he's dragging his feet as they go up the front walk and finally ring the bell.

Neither of them expect Shakira to answer the door.

With a baby cradled in her arms.

"Hello," she greets, smiling, turning her body to the side so they can come in. The baby appears to be dozing despite the chaos that's going on behind them. Shakira shuts the door behind them, studying first Cristiano and then Gareth. 

As she does, the baby opens his eyes briefly and waves chubby little fists in their direction. Gareth smiles a little, despite his nervousness, and reaches out to brush his finger against the baby's cheek. "Sasha, right?" he asks, timidly, his touch feather light before softly smoothing his hand over the baby's hair.

Piqué pops up out of nowhere. "Yes, yes, Sasha!" he replies boisterously, clearly having had a few drinks already. He rests a hand on the baby's head proudly, before pulling Cristiano into a hug. He squeezes Cristiano's ass, laughing, and then kisses him on the cheek. "Glad you could make it," he says. "Leo's been waiting." 

Then he shouts "Leo!" directly into Cristiano's ear.

Cristiano screws his face up, desperately trying not to throttle Piqué. He shakes his head a few times, hoping to regain his hearing, flinching as the sound eventually comes back.

Shakira pulls Piqué back, irritated. "I'm sorry, hope he didn't burst your ear drums." She turns her partner's face towards hers. "Behave," she says sternly, raising an eyebrow when Piqué opens his mouth to defend himself. He pouts at her and ducks his head in apology, but then reaches for Gareth.

"And here's our guest of honor!" He slings an arm around Gareth and squeezes as both of the Madrid players turn to look at Shakira, somewhat shocked that Piqué's mentioned tonight's activities.

"We don't have secrets," she says, shrugging, and kissing the baby's head gently. "But," she says, turning to Piqué, "as I said, behave." She keeps her eyes on him even as the music begins to get louder behind them and Sasha behind to protest.

Piqué laughs loudly, throwing his head back like its the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Yes, yes," he says. He starts tugging Gareth towards the stairs. "Come on, now." His hand moves to thread through Gareth's hair, twirling it around his fingers. "Time to celebrate!"

Cristiano's left standing, somewhat uncomfortably, with Shakira and the baby. The baby he's fine with--it's a baby, he loves babies, babies love him--but he's pretty sure Shakira doesn't really like him. Her smile has almost disappeared which he's positive is evidence enough. He's running through possible things to say when her eyes travel over his shoulder.

"Ah, Leo," she greets, her smile reappearing in genuine pleasure. The baby echoes her greeting, burbling happily despite his previous whining. 

Cristiano grits his teeth because of course everyone is always happy to see Leo. His irritation lessens when he turns. He has to try very hard to keep from laughing. He can't imagine why he felt the need to dress up for this party. He forgot that these Barcelona players don't have an ounce of fashion sense between them. Leo's wearing jeans and a white tshirt. 

Not exactly the most stylish outfit he could have chosen.

And Cristiano is 99% sure that those are the exact same clothes Leo was wearing back in October...

"I'm glad you came," Leo says, blinking slowly as his eyes travel over Cristiano's body. His lips curl up, pleased. He reaches out as if not sure how to greet Cristiano, and ends up sort of tentatively stroking Cristiano's arm. His fingers slide over the fabric of Cristiano's jacket, almost petting the material, before removing them quickly.

It's awkward.

Much like Leo.

So maybe it's appropriate.

Cristiano rolls his eyes anyway, bringing an arm up to pull Leo against him. "You asked me to," he says pointedly, squeezing, feeling the slim body exhale beside his own and Leo's fingers glide over his back. Cristiano rests his chin on Leo's head for a moment, knowing he's not imagining the way Leo relaxes in his embrace. When the baby laughs beside them, Cristiano releases Leo reluctantly.

Leo nods, tilting his head to the side in agreement. "So I did," he says distracted. He opens his mouth to say something else, but then seems to remember that they have an audience. 

Cristiano's glad, because there's no way he wants to have this discussion out in the open. Whatever their unfinished business really is, it's not for anyone's eyes and ears except their own.

Especially if it goes the way Cristiano hopes...

Leo brushes by Cristiano to go to Shakira, kissing her on the cheek and then smiling down at the baby. "I thought he could sleep through anything?" Leo asks, letting Sasha grab his finger.

Shakira laughs. "Usually, just like his daddy," she says. "And he was asleep until just now. But something about that awful music Dani put on, I suppose." She looks between Leo and Cristiano, eyes lingering on Cristiano and her brow furrowing. She clearly doesn't know why Cristiano is here, or what's going on between him and Leo.

Cristiano doesn't blame her.

He doesn't really know what's going on between them either.

Not exactly, that is.

Leo pulls his finger free of Sasha's grip. He nods his head to the side questioningly, looking at Cristiano.

Cristiano arches an eyebrow but takes a few steps in that direction, relieved when Leo whispers something to Shakira and then catches up with him. But they haven't gone very far before Neymar finds them.

"Leo, Leo, Leo," Leo's teammate chants, wearing a wide brimmed cap that tips to the side as he wraps his arms around Leo's body and lifts the smaller man off of his feet. 

Cristiano watches as Leo's feet dangle off above the ground as Neymar swings Leo around happily before putting him down gently. For a moment Cristiano is envious of the easy relationship they seem to share. It's nothing like Cristiano's relationship with Gareth or Karim. Who would have thought Neymar could deal with sharing the spotlight with Leo? 

But then again, maybe Neymar's after a little something more than companionship.

He's always picking Leo up. Always putting his hands on Leo and cuddling him and kissing him--making sure everyone knows how he well he and Leo go together.

And Cristiano gets it.

He'd love to play with Leo.

And Leo's so small. There's something about him that makes Cristiano want to pick him up too.

And... do other things to him.

Leo says something quietly that Cristiano can't hear, but it makes Neymar glare daggers in Cristiano's direction. The Brazilian cups Leo's cheek and kisses him on the neck. His lips linger. "Okay," he says, releasing Leo finally, his eyes still focused on Cristiano.

Leo pats Neymar on the arm and smiles back at Cristiano, gesturing for them to lead on. Neymar mouths something at Cristiano as he walks by, pursing his lips mockingly, but Cristiano ignores him as he follows Leo through the house. 

In the grand scheme of things, Neymar's friendship with Leo means little.

Because it's nothing compared to Cristiano's relationship with Leo. Even if Cristiano can't exactly explain what it is between them. Yet.

Cristiano's been to Piqué's house before, but he follows Leo as the smaller man leads him down a set of stairs and out a glass door. He realizes they've somehow bypassed a bunch of rooms and ended up outside near the pool.

Leo looks back once to make sure Cristiano is following, his dark eyes glinting in the light reflected off the water. 

Outside it's cool, and Cristiano's relieved he's wearing a jacket. He can see Leo shiver though, just wearing the thin tshirt. "Where are we going?" Cristiano finally asks, his feet scuffing along the path. He can still faintly hear the music from inside, but it's fading as they continue on away from the house.

There isn't a soul in sight. 

The pool is heated, and he can see steam rising up from the water, but everyone has stayed inside anyway. Probably good with the amount of drinking they're doing. Leo opens a gate, the clinking noise jarring in the calmness. "Away from everyone. The pool house," he says quietly. "Nobody will bother us." He leads the way to the smaller building off on the side.

Cristiano's never actually been in the pool house, but he can see that, like everything else at Piqué's house, it's tricked out. One room appears to be for pool supplies, while the other is a cozy lounge area. His eyes wander over the flat screen tv, pausing on the fireplace, before shifting to the armchair and comfy couch.

Leo kicks his shoes off by the door, awkwardly pulling off his socks and stuffing them inside. Barefoot, he pads across the floor and sprawls on the sofa, his t-shirt inching up to reveal a pale strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans. "So," he says, much like he did when he called, but seeming to gain confidence now that he's sitting and staring at Cristiano. 

Cristiano bares his teeth watching as the toes on one of Leo's feet wiggle up at him through white athletic tape. He debates whether or not he should join Leo on the sofa. But, that close to Leo and he might jump him before they finish their much needed conversation. "So," he repeats, taking his jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair before settling into it. He rests his arms on the armrests, posing. "Unfinished business." 

He's glad he went with the chair. He can't keep his eyes off that skin at Leo's waist.

Leo sees him looking, but doesn't move to fix his shirt. 

If anything, he smirks.

Cristiano has to laugh. He loves that he gets to see this side of Leo--the side that knows he's hot shit. Cristiano runs his hand through his hair, eyes trailing down Leo's body, lingering on Leo's nipples. The short walk outside has caused them to harden.

Cristiano licks his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... Barcelona couldn't win the Supercup. Here's another chapter to cheer us up :)
> 
> And now, I'm going on vacation!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They finally have the much needed conversation in this chapter...

Cristiano meant for the action to give Leo confidence, but instead it seems to do the opposite.

Leo sighs all of a sudden, looking up at the ceiling, seeming uncomfortable. "I don't know how to start," he admits, staring upwards, biting his lip. He raises an arm behind his head and rakes it through his hair, scratching almost nervously before pulling on the dark strands and showing his frustration.

Cristiano purses his lips, watching as Leo continues to muss his hair. He's seen Leo fidget with his hair on the pitch, normally after missing a clear chance, or making a mistake. It's not exactly something he wants Leo do be doing now. "Do you want to talk about... Is it about last time?" he asks slowly, wanting to get this all out of the way, wanting Leo to be at ease with him.

Leo laughs, still staring upwards. "No... And yes," he says, blushing. "I mean, how could it not be?" He lets go of his hair and both of his hands come up to cover his face and then his eyes briefly. "How could it not be?" he repeats, losing some of his mirth, dropping his hands to fold on his chest. He looks back at Cristiano and sighs again, his chest rising and falling softly. 

Cristiano leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubs his hands together aimlessly. "I've thought about it a lot," he says honestly, hoping to get Leo started. "About what happened... and what shouldn't have happened--with the others."

Leo sits up. "I've decided," he says, seriously, "that I won't be participating anymore. Win, or lose, I don't care. But, I'm not going to do any of it anymore." He scoffs thinking about it, looking down and then flicking his eyes up at Cristiano. "Why should I? It was never something I enjoyed." His lips twist into a frown while his fists clench tightly. After a few seconds, he relaxes, but the frown remains.

Cristiano can understand his displeasure. Mostly.

After all, Leo was involved a lot. And Leo was the one who created most of the rules surrounding the celebrations--all of them focused on protecting the people involved. It makes Cristiano wonder how bad it was when Leo was younger, when Cristiano was at Manchester. Because Leo must have made those rules for a reason. 

Not that all of those rules have been obeyed. (Leo's last time is a perfect example of that.)

And while most of Leo's last time was certainly something terrible... "So, you never enjoyed... *any* of it?" He keeps his tone even, although his heart is starting to race a little. Because, if Leo's going to say he never enjoyed any part of it, then Cristiano's going to have to call him a liar. 

Because Cristiano remembers the look of ecstasy on Leo's face. The look that *Cristiano* put there.

Leo falls back against the couch. "Are you going to make me say it?" he asks, looking small and tired. 

Cristiano frowns, pressing his palms together. "You don't have to say anything, but if you don't, then, well, I'm not sure why I'm here." He raises an eyebrow, trying to ease his expression back into something more neutral. "I'll tell the others that you're out. Is that what you want?" He keeps his eyes on Leo's. "I mean, I get it--"

"Why didn't you call me?" Leo asks softly, cutting Cristiano off, hand moving to tug at his hair again. The action slides his shirt up a little more, exposing his toned stomach, before his other hand pulls it almost all of the way back down. His fingers twitch where they rest on top of the thin white cotton.

Cristiano drags his eyes away from the strip of Leo's skin he can still see. "What?" 

"I thought..." Leo starts, flushing again, "I thought you would call me. After last time." He takes a deep breath. "I wanted you to call me. But you didn't. And then, I couldn't..." He bites his lip, looking away towards the wall, obviously uncomfortable again.

Cristiano feels a twinge of relief in his chest. Not because Leo was hurt, because of course he doesn't want Leo to feel that way... But knowing that Cristiano isn't alone in his feelings makes him feel a whole lot lighter. He tilts his head back, trying to think of how to explain everything--knowing there's still something important he has to get off his chest.

"Leo," he says, trying to chose his words carefully. "Don't you see? It had to be you that made the first move." When Leo doesn't say anything, Cristiano shakes his head. "You were only with me because--because of this stupid tradition. Because of my win... Our win... Madrid's win." He clears his throat. "Because I made you do it," he chokes out, feeling disgusted with himself.

"Do you know how many times I've replayed that night in my head?!" Cristiano continues, pulse racing as he squeezes his eyes shut. He wants to stand up, wants to hit something--wants to go back to that night and change what happened... Because while that moment alone with Leo had been special, what had led up to it had been horrifying.

Leo inhales sharply.

Cristiano tries to find his courage. "I might have stopped Karim and Isco, but I didn't stop myself," he says angrily, remembering. "I shouldn't have pushed you, shouldn't have forced the issue after them... They scared you," he says quietly, opening his eyes again and finding Leo's. "You were hurt and upset. And I fucked you anyway. As if I had some magical healing cock or something." He shakes his head again. "It wasn't right. I'm sorry."

And it's something he should have said months ago. 

Something that's bothered him ever since that night. Every time somebody mentioned Leo's name, Cristiano had cringed inside, ashamed of how little time he had given Leo to recover. How he'd been so eager to press his fingers inside Leo, to kiss him, to hear his moans of pleasure... He'd been so focused on making Leo feel good--on making *both* of them feel good--that he hadn't done the right thing.

Leo sits upright. "Shut up," he bites out, the flush traveling down his neck. "None of it is right. That whole ridiculous celebration wasn't right. It *never* was right!" He swallows angrily. "Fuck! Do you know how much I wanted to them to stop?!"

Cristiano had guessed that. But Leo had never asked for help.

Leo chokes back a laugh. "But--but with you, I could have said no, could have pushed you away or asked you to take me back to the hotel. And *you* would have stopped--*you* would have let me leave... But I didn't do any of those things," he says, raising his voice. "And do you know why?"

"Why?" Cristiano says, folding his arms across his chest.

"Because it was you!" Leo shouts. "You fucking idiot! I wanted you!" 

Cristiano stares at him. "But--," he starts.

"I wanted you," Leo repeats, his voice breaking.

Cristiano takes a shuddering breath, mind whirling, wanting to go to Leo but unable to move.

"I still want you," Leo says hoarsely, eyes glittering. "I don't give a fuck anymore about who wins or loses, or how our teams fight it out off the pitch." He grits his teeth. "I just want you. Not twice a year with other people watching us and waiting for their turn. Just... you and me, alone. Like a fucking normal couple." When Cristiano doesn't speak right away, Leo covers his face with his hands. "Jesus Christ, Cristiano," he says, the rage leaving his body. 

Cristiano digs his fingers into the armrests of the chair. He's half hard already, knowing Leo wants him like that. He wants to go to Leo on the couch, wants to push him back into the cushions, strip him bare and cover his body with his own.

But he can't.

Not yet.

"We can't ever be a normal couple," Cristiano says softly. "Not with who we are. And what we do." He doesn't even dare imagine it--doesn't want to dream of what he can't have. A life away from the media, from scrutiny, from pressure... Everything would be different.

No. They can't ever be normal. But maybe it doesn't matter.

Leo sags back wearily, uncovering his face, but doesn't look at Cristiano. "It would be nice though, wouldn't it?" he asks, tipping his head back against the couch and staring up at the ceiling. He looks wistful, and a hint of a smile appears on his face for the first time since they began their conversation.

Cristiano smiles, linking his hands behind his head. "Normal's overrated, anyway." When Leo lifts his head, Cristiano winks. "Come on. Look at me. You wouldn't like me if I were normal." He tilts his head suggestively and flexes his arms slightly. "I wouldn't look like this if I were normal." Leo's smile grows brighter and Cristiano grins in response. 

"No?" Leo says amused. "Well I--I think you're wrong." When Cristiano raises an eyebrow, Leo's smile softens. "I think I would still like you." He bites his lip. "You probably wouldn't notice me... But I would like you."

Cristiano laughs. "Oh, I would definitely notice you, Leo," he purrs, watching in satisfaction as Leo's cheeks grow pinker. "You can think what you want, but..." He shakes his head dismissively. "I would notice you." 

Because he would. 

Absolutely. 

There's something about Leo that draws his eye--and it's not just his skills on the football pitch.

Leo scoffs, his hand going to his hair again. But the smile is still playing around his lips, and he's clearly flattered. "The things you say," he mutters, more to himself than Cristiano, as he closes his eyes and stretches his body out fully. He makes a pleased sound, lips parting as he raises his arms above his head and arches his back. 

Cristiano's fingers dig into the armrests again, watching as Leo's toes curl in pleasure.

When Leo opens his eyes again, he lazily looks over at Cristiano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, I promptly got sick when I returned home from vacation. So I'm a little behind on reading and writing. But, it has been awhile, so here's the next chapter! No promises on when the next one will be ;)


	4. Chapter 4

Cristiano looks away, glancing at his watch, relishing the feeling of Leo's eyes on him. He likes it when people look at him, and he likes it even more so when it's Leo, so he lets a little smile play around his lips. 

And while Cristiano's gaze may be directed at his wrist, he barely notices what time it is. 

He just knows that it's been long enough.

His fingers move over the metal slowly, unclasping it. When he tucks it inside his jacket and then bends to untie his shoes, he looks up at Leo again. "I'm not lying, you know," he says, toeing off first one shoe and then the other. 

Leo looks at him almost drowsily now, as if he's going to fall asleep on the couch, regardless of Cristiano's presence. "Hmmm?" His fingers stroke across his stomach lightly.

Cristiano pulls off his socks and folds them before tucking them into his shoes. "I don't lie," he says shrugging. He crosses his arms. "And so you should believe me when I say I would notice you." 

Leo shakes his head again, this time fondly.

"I have to ask," Cristiano says, his gaze lingering on Leo's loose jeans. "Is that what you wore to my house, last time?"

Leo keeps the smile on his face. "Noticed, did you?" he asks, sliding his hand down his chest thoughtfully. "Except for the underwear, of course." His eyes meet Cristiano's and he raises his hands to link behind his head. 

Cristiano watches as the material of Leo's shirt stretches attractively around his biceps, giving Cristiano a good look at Leo's new tattoos.

He really, really, likes Leo in white. "Went with something different, did you?"

"I couldn't find my CR7s for some reason," Leo says softly, his tone reminding Cristiano that Leo's not as cocky as he seems. He looks at Cristiano challengingly though, daring him to speak. His cheeks are flushing--a sure sign that he remembers very well what happened to them. 

How Sergio had peeled them down his legs and thrown them to Cristiano.

And how Cristiano had stuffed them into his pocket.

Now it's Cristiano's turn to smirk. 

Because he remembers picking his jeans off the floor the next morning and finding the briefs crumpled and forgotten. 

They didn't stay there for long.

Cristiano uncrosses his arms, watching as Leo's lips part slightly and he shifts on the couch. And now Cristiano knows the time for talking really is over. Because he can read Leo's body probably as well as Leo can read his. 

And right now Leo wants him.

Just like Cristiano wants Leo.

"Should I tell you what I did with them?" Cristiano asks, standing up and licking his lips. His heart is starting to pound in his chest and he takes a step closer to the couch. He can see Leo's pupils dilate. "How I jerked off in them? How I laid in bed, alone, remembering the sounds you made when you clenched around my cock?" 

Leo makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a whine. His hand drifts down to palm his cock through his jeans. It slides the fabric down another inch, revealing more skin and a tantalizing hipbone.

Cristiano unbuttons his shirt, pulling the buttons free one by one. "Mmm," he says. "They were filthy by the time I finished with them." He pulls his shirt off his arms and throws it on the chair. His hands go to his belt and he begins to unbuckle.

"You owe me another pair, then," Leo says hoarsely, hand pressing hard against himself as he watches Cristiano strip down. "I particularly like those," he says, eyeing Cristiano's black briefs. 

Cristiano's smile turns predatory. "I thought you might," he says, taking another step towards Leo.

"Wait, stop," Leo says suddenly.

And Cristiano frowns. But he stops moving and his hands rest by his sides. "What?"

Leo blushes again. "I just like looking at you," he mutters, barely loud enough for Cristiano to hear. "Fuck, your body is ridiculous." His hand presses harder against his cock and he spreads his legs.

Cristiano preens, flexing slightly. "You can look," he says amused, "or you can touch." His eyes are full of promise as they stare at Leo.

"Hmmm," Leo breathes, the tip of his tongue sliding against his lip. "Maybe I want both," he says, eyes trailing over Cristiano's muscles. "But first, I want you to crawl across the floor."

Cristiano arches an eyebrow. "You want me to crawl?" he repeats, running a hand across his stomach thoughtfully. He smiles, watching as Leo's eyes follow his fingers. 

"You made me do it," Leo says pointedly. "Maybe I want to see *you* on your hands and knees." His cheeks turn redder as if he's embarrassed by his own request. But he doesn't back down. "My team won after all."

Normally the mention of the game would send Cristiano into a rage, but he's too focused on Leo. "And then you'll let me have you?" Cristiano confirms, grinning, completely loving the color that Leo's face is turning.

Leo's confidence seems to desert him. He looks away. "Maybe I'll have you," he says halfheartedly, biting his lip before looking back at Cristiano. His lashes flutter darkly as he pops the button on his jeans.

Cristiano laughs and falls to his knees. "Oh no, baby, I'll have you." He slinks forward slowly, intently, hands clenching into the carpet. He stretches his limbs seductively, moving languidly towards his prey. 

He doesn't feel any shame as he crawls towards Leo. 

If anything, there's power in this position.

"Because you want it, don't you? Want me?" Cristiano continues, narrowing his eyes. When he reaches the sofa he raises up on his knees and smiles. "That's what you said, wasn't it? That you want me? When it's just the two of us, without anyone watching?" He reaches up and wraps his hands around Leo's knees, yanking the other man towards him. Leo gasps, sliding along the sofa, legs splayed, as Cristiano runs his hands up Leo's thighs. "But that's okay, baby. Because I want you, too."

The jeans are so loose on the smaller man's hips that when Cristiano tugs they begin to come off. 

Leo lifts and allows Cristiano to pull them off totally. He slouches back against the couch and looks debauched already-- chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock hard and leaking against his belly.

"No underwear?" Cristiano asks, tossing the jeans on the floor and then caressing Leo's shins. He licks his lips.

Leo's lips turn up. "I told you I couldn't find them," he says, pupils blown as he stares at Cristiano.

Cristiano grins. "Oh, I'm not complaining," he says, fingers sliding to cup Leo's calves. "In fact, you should probably take that shirt off, too. Just to be thorough." 

Leo laughs, sitting up and pulling the white fabric over his head. He looks at Cristiano, kneeling in front of him, fingers still delicately sliding over Leo's calves. "You look like you're still wearing something extra," he says, pointing his chin towards Cristiano's briefs. 

Cristiano's eyes glitter as he stands and pulls his briefs off, tossing them in the direction of the chair. His cock hovers in front of Leo's face and Cristiano smirks. He raises his eyebrows at Leo. "Since you're down there already," he starts.

But Leo scoffs and crosses his arms before smiling. He spreads his thighs wide, drawing attention to the thick cock bobbing between his legs. "Uh uh," he says, dropping a hand to pump himself leisurely. "I want your mouth." 

Cristiano drops to his knees effortlessly. "Oh, do you?" he teases, watching Leo's hand. He strokes his fingertips up Leo's inner thighs, enjoying the way Leo unconsciously lifts his hips. "And where do you want it?" he asks, sitting back onto his heels. "Here?" he whispers, pressing his lips to the inside of Leo's knee.

Leo sighs, dark eyes trained on Cristiano's mouth. "I always forget you're such a tease." He squirms on the couch and lifts his foot to try to hook it around Cristiano's neck.

Cristiano catches it and continues on as if Leo hasn't spoken. "Maybe here?" he asks, lifting Leo's leg and kissing his ankle. His hand cradles Leo's foot, tenderly, trying to avoid the white athletic tape. But his eyes shoot to Leo's when the smaller man hisses. "Is this from today?" Cristiano asks curiously.

"Mmm, no," Leo says, a hint of pain in his eyes. "From Man City." He tips his head back and shuts his eyes to hide it. "Leave it alone, hmm?"

And Cristiano understands.

He really does.

When you're one of the best players in the world, and your team is fighting for the top spot in La Liga, you play when you shouldn't. 

Cristiano's been there.

He hums sympathetically and rests Leo's leg on his shoulder. Then he carefully grabs the other leg and places it on his other shoulder. Leo's eyes remain closed as Cristiano's hands settle on his hips and drag him to the edge of the couch. "By the way, Leo," Cristiano days, batting away Leo's hand where it's still curled around his cock.

Leo's eyes fly open.

Cristiano looks up to meet his gaze, leaning down until he's breathing hotly across Leo's cock. His lips hover over the tip, tongue flicking out for a taste before humming. "I thought I told you last time... I'm only a tease if I don't follow through." He smiles. "And I always follow through. Especially when it's you." 

And then his mouth descends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised an update today so here it is :)
> 
> And Barcelona won!
> 
> What a great day lol. Let me know what you think xoxo


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty much the end! Finally, finally, finally, they have the moment we've all been waiting for. I hope the build up was worth it, and you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think. 
> 
> There will be a short epilogue for the 6th chapter :)

Cristiano teases the tip of Leo's cock, humming again as his tongue tastes precome, and then sucks him between his lips.

Leo's hands thread immediately in his hair, pulling hard as Cristiano's head begins to bob up and down. "Ah fuck," he whimpers, trying to keep his hips still as Cristiano's hot, wet, mouth moves over him. He probably wants to fuck Cristiano's mouth, thrust furiously and come down his throat, but he doesn't--shifting on the couch only slightly. His eyes are glassy, cheeks flushing instantly, mouth falling open to say something, but clearly overwhelmed. He only manages to moan instead.

Cristiano would smirk if he could, but his mouth is stretched around Leo's cock, achingly full. He sucks harder instead, loving the feeling of Leo hot and heavy on his tongue. After a moment he pulls off a bit, pumping the base with a hand leisurely, lips still suckling the head. Leo's legs are tight around his neck, and Cristiano thinks about admonishing him--but he kinda likes the feeling, those firm thighs pressed against his ears, warm skin squeezing intensely.

Leo tips his head back against the couch in ecstasy, chest heaving, and Cristiano growls, no longer able to see his face. He eyes the long line of Leo's throat, wanting to surge up and mark it, wanting to suck bruises into the delicate skin, wanting everyone to know that Leo's his... 

But he pauses, knowing there's still plenty of time for that later. 

Instead, as punishment, Cristiano turns his head and nibbles at the inside of Leo's thigh, scraping his teeth against the soft skin and then soothing it with his tongue. He sucks until he's left a mark as Leo squirms underneath him. Then he slides his free hand up Leo's stomach, tracing the abdominal muscles greedily, before smoothing up Leo's chest. His mouth returns to between Leo's legs, lips stretched around Leo's cock, bobbing his throat continuously, as his fingers begin to play with a pert nipple. 

It's pebbled beneath his hand, no doubt aching with arousal, and Cristiano takes advantage, pinching softly.

Leo arches delightfully at the touch, the heel of his uninjured foot digging into Cristiano's shoulder, sliding a bit, urging him on. "Cristiano," he says quietly, panting, "please!" His hands pull at Cristiano's hair, fingers curling around the short strands as much as possible. He can't really get a good grip, but he keeps trying, refusing to let go, gasping as Cristiano pinches again.

Cristiano's not ashamed of the way he shudders, arousal pooling in his belly at hearing the way Leo says his name. He pulls off, licking his lips and then wiping his mouth. He smiles mischievously. "Yes? This is what you wanted, isn't it? My mouth?" He turns his head and nuzzles Leo's other thigh, sucking a kiss to make a matching mark as Leo moans again. "See Leo? I'm listening..." he says when he's finished, admiring the reddening skin. "That's what you said."

When Leo merely tugs on his hair, Cristiano grins, continuing to pump Leo's wet cock.

"Ahh," he says, breathing hotly. "Maybe you want my mouth somewhere else, hmm?" His hand leaves Leo's cock, fingers creeping lower, letting his thumb brush over Leo's entrance. 

His mouth is already watering, just thinking about it--he'll finally get to do what he couldn't last time. 

"Why don't you turn over and I'll--," he starts, beginning to circle Leo's rim gently.

But Leo's grip on his hair loosens immediately. "No," he says suddenly, "I don't, please, wait." He scrambles to sit up, jerking his limbs away, and Cristiano removes his hand.

"What's wrong?" he asks, as Leo begins to struggle. Leo doesn't reply, frantically still trying to get away. Cristiano quickly grabs the calf of Leo's injured leg, maneuvering it off his shoulder carefully as Leo yanks it from his hand.

Leo plasters himself as far back on the couch as possible, putting space between them. Then he presses his palms to his face, covering his eyes. "Just--," Leo says, taking a deep breath, shoulders shaking slightly.

In the end Cristiano remains on the floor, body starting to hurt from the position, but he doesn't move and stays kneeling between Leo's spread legs. He hesitates, but then reaches out and thumbs Leo's knee. "What's wrong?" he asks again, noting that the charming flush has disappeared. Leo's gone pale, despite the fact that he's still hard. "Leo," he murmurs, when there's no forthcoming response. 

He sits back on his heels, not knowing how to continue.

But finally, with obvious effort, Leo drops his hands. He's angry as he stares at Cristiano, fingers clenching and unclenching nervously in the fabric of the couch. 

For a second, Cristiano is bewildered, thinking the anger is directed at him. He bites his tongue, staring back at Leo, utterly confused.

"I'm sorry," Leo eventually breathes, chest heaving slightly as he gulps in air. "I...," he attempts, before shaking his head. "Fuck, it's not you." He scoots back, frustrated, slapping the arm of the sofa in disgust. 

Then he turns away, pulling his legs into his body until he's almost curled into a ball. 

Cristiano, for one of the first times in his life, doesn't know what to do. 

Leo's body language screams for Cristiano to leave him alone--to not touch him or talk to him. 

But Cristiano can't leave him like this. 

He cautiously moves to sit on the sofa, joints creaking as he climbs off the floor, inching closer to Leo until he can reach an arm out and wrap it around Leo's shoulders. Leo's stiff in his arms at first, still refusing to look at him, and Cristiano is half afraid Leo will push him away.

But it turns out Leo doesn't push him away or scream. 

If anything, Leo welcomes the embrace, tucking his face into Cristiano's neck. "It's not you," he says again, muffled against Cristiano's skin. "But... I haven't been with anyone. Since last time... And you said--I can't, please, I can't have you behind me. I need to be able to see you." He lifts his head, and his eyes aren't angry anymore. They're sad. "I need to know that it's you, Cristiano, and not... somebody else."

Leo doesn't say their names. 

He doesn't say Iker's name.

Or Isco's.

Or Karim's.

But he says Cristiano's. 

Says it in that soft, wondrous way of his, voice caressing it as if it's the most beautiful thing he's ever said.

Cristiano aches for him, wanting so badly to erase all of his pain--wanting Leo to be saying Cristiano's name for all the right reasons.

And so Cristiano simply hugs him, tightening his arm and holding him close, kicking himself for assuming that just because they had a serious conversation about last time that meant everything would instantly be okay. He can't go back and change what happened that night, no matter how many times he wishes he could. All he can do now is help Leo. "Whatever you want," he says, smoothing his hand up Leo's arm. "This isn't supposed to be like last time. It's nothing like that. This is just you and me. Forget everything else. We're equals here. You say stop and I'll stop." 

That's the way it should be. The way it should always be. Not matter what.

Because he's not even mad that Leo's gotten him worked up. 

He doesn't give a fuck about that. 

Leo's fingers grip his arm. "I know that," he says forcefully. "I know you wouldn't ever hurt me. It's just, my body remembers the others..." He looks weary. "I feel stupid. It might take awhile for me to forget." His eyes search Cristiano's trustingly. "It's not you," he repeats for a third time, nails curling into Cristiano's arm.

Cristiano cups Leo's cheek. "You sound like you're trying to convince yourself," he says, smoothing a thumb over Leo's cheekbone. "And it's not stupid. If you're not ready--we don't have to do anything." He reaches down and pulls Leo's good leg out across his lap, followed by the other, straightening them out so Leo is comfortable. He puts his hand on the taped up foot reassuringly. "We can just sit here and drive up Piqué's cable bill, okay?"

He wants to say he'll wait for Leo.

Wants to say that how ever long it takes for Leo to be ready, he'll wait.

And if Leo's never ready, well then, that's fine too.

But he doesn't say it, a little afraid of how cheesy it'll sound. 

Instead he says something equally cheesy. But it does the job.

Leo stares at him incredulously, eyes darting to Cristiano's lips before down into his lap. He laughs, regaining some of his happiness, his frown disappearing along with his anger. Then he closes his eyes and presses his palm flat against Cristiano's chest, feeling his heart beat. Cristiano doesn't know what exactly Leo is looking for, but he sits there in silence, just breathing, watching Leo curiously. After a minute, Leo opens his eyes again and he leans over and drops a kiss on Cristiano's jaw. 

And then his hand grasps Cristiano's cock. 

"And what about this, hmm?" Leo begins to pump his hand up and down, skin sliding slickly over the throbbing length. "You're just going to forget all about this?" His cheeks are starting to flush once more--part of him calming down while another part is starting to get worked up again.

Cristiano sucks in a deep breath at the glorious sensation. "Absolutely," he says, moving his hand off Leo's ankle before he accidentally squeezes it and hurts him. He wanders up Leo's calf to his knee. "I'll even let you pick the movie," he says, fingers starting to stroke up Leo's inner thigh, ignoring the hard cock inches from his hand. He grins as Leo fidgets. "We'll fall asleep on the couch, watching tv. See?" he says, happily. "Look at that. We *can* be just like a normal couple."

Leo's lips curl into a smile. "That's what you think a normal couple does? Well then, I changed my mind," he says, shifting his legs off Cristiano. He moves to straddle Cristiano's lap, knees settling on either side of Cristiano's hips, taking care not to bang his foot. They both suck in a breath as their cocks press against each other. "I don't want to be a normal couple anymore." He links his hands behind Cristiano's neck, biting his lip as Cristiano's hands palm his ass.

"Alright then. I told you normal was overrated," Cristiano says, squeezing the plump cheeks. He can't hold back a groan. "Mmm, finally." He grins unashamedly up at Leo, fingertips digging into the soft skin. "I missed this." 

Leo arches an eyebrow. He looks over his shoulder and down at Cristiano's hands. "You missed my ass?" he asks, turning back and laughing, dimples appearing out of nowhere.

Cristiano bares his teeth. "Absolutely," he murmurs, cupping the firm globes. "Well, to be honest," he continues, sliding his hands down Leo's thighs, "I missed all of this." He admires the way Leo's muscles flex under his hands, and then skims up Leo's chest. "Sometimes I wish you wore a kit that fit you, because then I'd really get to see it more often." At Leo's snort, Cristiano pinches one of his nipples again, ignoring the gasp that follows. "I mean, I get why you don't... And it'd probably end up being pretty distracting anyway."

Leo rolls his hips, sighing, as Cristiano's hands go back to palming his ass. "You're always so interested in what I wear," Leo says, tilting his head to the side. "Want me to get you a Messi jersey?" He grins down at Cristiano. "How would that look, hmm? My name across your back?" He tries to say it in a seductive way, failing miserably. Then he opens his mouth to say something else, but ends up laughing and shaking his head. "I'm sorry, it just doesn't do anything for me!"

Cristiano's hands slide up Leo's back to thread in his hair and pull him in for a kiss. "Go ahead, make fun of me," he says, breaking the kiss. It's a light touch of the lips, barely enough to satisfy him, but enough that Leo's eyes lose their mirth and go dark and hazy. "I regret a lot of things about last time, Leo, but not that--not you sprawled out wearing nothing but my shirt," Cristiano says quietly. "Hottest thing I've ever seen," he breathes, tugging Leo back into another kiss. 

And it was. 

He still dreams about it sometimes. 

Leo opens his mouth, trying to deepen the kiss, flicking his tongue out against Cristiano's. His hands tighten on the back of Cristiano's neck, hips shifting as he leans down into the kiss, molding himself against Cristiano eagerly. He sighs, disappointed when Cristiano pulls back. 

"Anyway, another Messi jersey in my house? No thanks," Cristiano says, stroking a hand down Leo's spine. "One is enough, thank you very much." His other hand twirls in Leo's hair, enjoying the feeling of the soft strands around his fingertips.

Leo, who had been leaning into the touch, goes still. "What?" he asks curiously, hands sliding to Cristiano's shoulders and sitting up. "What do you mean?"

Cristiano rolls his eyes. "I told you Junior talked about you." He looks off to the side, unable to meet Leo's eyes, actually a little embarrassed. "So I got him a jersey for Christmas, but only after he promised he'd never wear it outside the house... God, those terrible stripes are such an eyesore." 

He doesn't really think that, of course. 

His son looks adorable in anything.

But it's humiliating, watching Junior running around the living room, shrieking at the top of his lungs about a goal, while wearing a Barcelona jersey. 

Ugh, Barcelona.

Leo reaches and turns Cristiano's face back toward his. "You got him my jersey? Oh my god, that's the cutest thing I ever heard." He cups Cristiano's face, eyes shining. "Aren't you just the sweetest."

Cristiano glares at him, face smushed together. "I am not the cutest or the sweetest," he says, disgruntled. "I am strong and manly, and frankly horrified by Junior's life choices." He ignores the way Leo's smiling at him. "Did you know that kid wants to be a goalkeeper? Over my dead body. And if you think--," he starts to rant, before Leo cuts him off by pressing their lips together.

This time, when Leo's tongue slides along his lips, Cristiano opens his mouth too. He swallows Leo's moans, curling his tongue along Leo's, twisting and tasting, searching out every corner of Leo's mouth eagerly. He breaks the kiss to breathe, nipping at Leo's delicious bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue. 

His hands settle on Leo's ass again, pulling Leo as close as possible. They're both still hard, cocks trapped between their bellies, sliding slickly with every shift of Leo's hips. He squeezes Leo's cheeks, letting his fingers drift teasingly into the crease. But then he freezes. "Before," Cristiano breathes, searching Leo's face, "when--when you got upset, was it because of me touching you? Or what I said about?"

Leo's eyes have darkened. He reaches behind himself for Cristiano's hand. "It was what you said," Leo murmurs. "But everything's fine like this." He drags Cristiano's fingers between his cheeks. "Please, Cristiano. I want you to touch me." As the pad of Cristiano's finger brushes over his entrance, Leo arches. "Just like that, oh," he moans. He drops Cristiano's hand to hold onto his shoulders. "Again," he orders, eyes fluttering shut.

Cristiano grins. "I love when you tell me what to do," he says, delicately letting his fingertip graze Leo's rim. "So feisty." He does it again, pleased by Leo's faint gasp and the way the hands on his shoulders tighten. "But I'm not doing anything more," he says, removing his finger, "unless you have some lube hidden in this couch." He smooths his hand down Leo's thigh and then back up to his hip. 

Leo opens his eyes, linking his hands behind Cristiano's neck. "In my pocket," he says, tilting his head to where his jeans are crumpled on the floor. "You'll have to let me get up." He slides his hands up Cristiano's chest appreciatively, clearly distracted. "Mmmm, it'll just take a second." He shakes his head and starts to pull away, but Cristiano seizes his waist, grabbing him and not letting go.

"No, no," Cristiano says, grinning. "Don't get up. Just hold on to me and I'll get it." He presses Leo's body closer, tugging Leo's arms until they're holding onto his neck again. When Leo laughs and looks like he's going to protest, Cristiano shushes him. "I won't drop you. I promise. Don't you trust me?"

And the second the question is out there, Cristiano half wants to take it back.

But Leo's answer is immediate. "Of course, Cristiano," he says, ducking his head into Cristiano's throat. He nuzzles the soft skin there, mumbling, "of course," a second time. He doesn't lift his head, shy again, as he tightens his legs the best he can around Cristiano's hips.

And Cristiano was just joking around when he asked, but Leo's answer is so honest and heartfelt that Cristiano immediately cradles him closer. It's ridiculous how perfectly Leo fits against him. "Good," he says, aware of how significant a gift Leo's trust is. "You should," he says, voice a little shaky. He clears his throat, squeezing Leo's waist. "Hold on now."

Then he scoots forward on the couch, leaning over to where Leo's jeans are. The action tips Leo backwards, and Cristiano holds him carefully so they don't both go tumbling to the floor. Leo can't lock his ankles behind Cristiano's back with that bad foot, so they just have to make do with Leo tightening his thighs.

Cristiano's not too worried though. 

He's had those thighs wrapped around him before.

Those gorgeous thighs...

He can feel Leo smiling against his throat, and the action gives him a little more confidence, stretching out with one hand and grabbing the jeans successfully. "Aha," he says, leaning backwards. "See?" Cristiano says grunting, as he heaves their weight back again, clutching the jeans triumphantly. "I told you. I've got you," he mutters, once they're settled safely on the sofa again.

For a tiny, little thing, Leo sure weighs a lot, but Cristiano's careful.

Leo giggles into his neck and Cristiano laughs in response, unable to stop himself. "Did you just giggle at me?" Cristiano asks, charmed, arm wrapped around Leo's waist. The question makes Leo giggle again, and Cristiano smirks. "A grown man giggling," he says, using one hand to dig into Leo's pocket and pull out the tube of lube he had missed before. "Ridiculous." He tosses the jeans back on the floor and then twists his body to the side, carefully turning Leo onto his back along the sofa. 

Leo stretches out temptingly in his former position, spreading his thighs and reaching his hands behind him to grab onto the arm of the couch. "Hmmm," he says, hooking his ankle around Cristiano's hips. "I would never giggle. After all, I'm strong and manly," he says, repeating Cristiano's words back to him. "Come here." He smiles as Cristiano leans down between his legs. "Kiss me again," he orders, as Cristiano draws closer.

Cristiano indulges him, dipping down to kiss Leo, making it hot and wet until Leo's writhing beneath him. He flicks the cap off the lube, the click loud in the otherwise quiet room, sucking a kiss underneath Leo's jaw. "Ready?" he asks Leo, nosing against Leo's ear. "I'm going to take my time," he says raggedly, getting excited. "I want it to be good for you." He can feel Leo shiver beneath him at the sound of the lube squirting into his hand. "We have all night," Cristiano says, coating his fingers generously. He leans back so he can see Leo's face.

Leo's peering up at him, face flushed. His lips are pink and swollen from Cristiano's kisses. "It will be good," he says to Cristiano, tilting his hips up and parting his thighs invitingly. "It's you." His voice is firm, unwavering, even as his body trembles, miles of luscious skin waiting for Cristiano's touch. 

Cristiano can't hold back his grin, moving two of his slick fingers between Leo's legs. He doesn't press, simply slides over Leo's entrance, petting gently. 

He meant what he said. 

He's going to take his time.

Going to enjoy it.

Going to make sure Leo enjoys it, too.

So he brushes over the muscle softly, repeatedly, using feather light touches meant to soothe and relax, meant to show Leo that it won't be anything like last time. Everything will be done as it should be, slowly and cautiously and with the utmost care. 

Because it's not a hardship to open Leo up like this, to watch him moan and sigh and melt back into the cushions. 

Nothing like this could ever be a hardship.

His other hand smooths up and down Leo's chest, skimming over his nipples, moving slowly over the delicate skin, feeling the tension disappear under his fingertips. "You're gorgeous," Cristiano mutters, bending down to nose against Leo's ear.

Leo sighs in reply, turning his head to give Cristiano more room, silently asking for more. Cristiano obliges, dropping kisses down the side of his neck. He mouths gently at Leo's throat, liking the taste of salt on his tongue, as his fingers slide between Leo's legs. The lube makes everything easier, and his slippery fingers rub around Leo's rim over and over, circling and massaging, until Leo's skin is wet and glistening. 

Some drips down Leo's milky thighs onto the couch, and Cristiano couldn't care less. 

He'll buy Piqué a whole new fucking sofa after this.

He tilts Leo's hips a little more, continuing to pet Leo and glide his fingers over Leo's entrance until Leo's totally pliant underneath him. He moves his hand to pump Leo's cock, slicking him up nicely while Leo moans, before he moves his hand to his own cock.

He has to grab himself tightly in order to keep from coming, because having Leo beneath him like this--flushed and docile and beautiful--is getting him really worked up. It's something he's dreamed about for months, something he wasn't sure he'd ever get to have again. And now he has it--has Leo's leg wrapped around his waist, has Leo's thighs parted and waiting, has Leo on his back, hard. 

Hard from Cristiano's hands and lips and words.

Cristiano's never been so aroused. 

After a few deep breaths he regains control and lets go, picking up the lube again.

Leo's eyes have drifted shut under Cristiano's touch, hands still stretched back over his head. His chest rises and falls slowly, skin covered with a light sheen of sweat, shiny from where Cristiano smeared lube. He tips his head back, exposing his throat, utterly relaxed. Other than that, he doesn't move as Cristiano squirts out some more lube.

Cristiano thumbs one of Leo's nipples again, the pink bud furled tightly beneath his fingers, before he smooths his hand over Leo's chest. He leaves it flat against Leo's sternum, feeling the steady beat underneath. His other hand goes back to between Leo's legs. Gently he strokes over Leo's entrance once more, and then presses slightly, easing his fingertip in.

It goes easily.

When he looks back up at Leo, he can see those dark eyes are still closed. "Okay?" Cristiano asks quietly, holding his finger still. And of course he knows this is far from Leo's first time, but he wants to be sure--absolutely sure--that everything is still okay. And when Leo merely nods at him, Cristiano doesn't totally buy it. He sinks his finger in slowly, moving an inch in and then out and then in again until he's sunk up to his knuckle. 

Leo keeps his eyes closed the entire time.

His body accepts Cristiano's finger without problems, though Cristiano can see the muscles in his arms have tightened, as Leo grips the end of the sofa.

"Leo," Cristiano says, wondering if all the time he spent trying to ease Leo has been for nothing as he watches Leo tense. He bends down and noses the side of Leo's neck, hoping for a response. He can feel Leo's heartbeat speed up under his hand and he frowns, pulling his head back, about to remove his finger and stop everything entirely.

But Leo grabs the wrist of the hand on his chest and Cristiano stops moving.

"No, stay," Leo says, finally opening his eyes. "It's good," he says, squeezing reassuringly. "It's just been awhile," he continues, biting his lip. "Like I said... You were the last to... You know." He smiles, embarrassed. "It's good--please, don't stop." He tilts his chin, a challenging look in his eye, like they're out on the pitch and he's about to dribble past the entire defense. "Give me another."

Cristiano hates the possessive thrill that shoots up his spine at those words. He bends down again and bites Leo lightly on his jawline, just hard enough that it'll leave a mark. 

His mark.

He shouldn't feel this way, he shouldn't... But the thought that he was the last one to have Leo satisfies him beyond belief. Because he's greedy, wanting Leo all for himself... Wanting Leo's gasps and moans and cries of pleasure.

He wants them.

Over and over and over.

He sucks at that soft skin, and then bites again, this time a little harder, soothing the spot immediately with his tongue when Leo gasps.

He can't help himself.

Especially when Leo's beneath him, quivering for Cristiano's touch.

"I'll give you whatever you want," Cristiano says, leaning back again so he can see Leo's face, pressing in a second finger. This one doesn't go as easily, Leo's body tightening around him as it tries to make room. Cristiano's careful, still going slowly, working it in and out until Leo accepts him. "How's that, baby?" he murmurs, once Leo's adjusted, cautiously starting to scissor. His cock throbs painfully between his legs as he watches his fingers sink into that velvet, but he ignores it, focused entirely on Leo. 

And then he crooks his fingers and finds that special little spot.

Leo's lips part, moaning soundlessly as he stares up at Cristiano's face. He doesn't let go of Cristiano's wrist, his other hand still reaching behind him to hold onto the sofa. "Cristiano," he breathes, hips shifting, cheeks flushing furiously. His lashes are fluttering with every thrust of Cristiano's hand, but he keeps his gaze trained on Cristiano's face.

And Cristiano loves it, loves that he can make Leo feel like this, make Leo say his name like this. He moves his fingers in and out, hearing the squelching of the lube, feeling Leo's tight heat squeezing around him. He angles towards that little spot, hitting it every time as he fucks Leo with his fingers, going harder and deeper, stretching him for what's to come.

He could make Leo come like this. He could continue to thrust his fingers inside him, make him scream and moan just from this.

By the time Cristiano's got three fingers in there, Leo's biting his lip and moving his hips to meet him.

And Cristiano thinks about keeping at it. But he wants more. And he thinks Leo does too.

Cristiano keeps his other hand on Leo's chest, holding him down. "How's that, Leo?" he asks, looking at Leo's blown pupils. "Are you ready? You feel ready--feel like you're ready for me." He slows the thrusts of fingers, moving them slower and slower until he finally stops, just holding them inside as Leo squirms to try to get him to move.

"Tease," Leo moans, struggling against him.

Cristiano laughs, pulling his fingers out. He intently watches Leo's entrance clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill him. Then he circles the rim gently with a wet finger as Leo groans, frustrated. "I think you're ready," Cristiano says grinning. He smooths the hand on Leo's chest down to Leo's hip, then grasps his thigh and tugs him closer. 

Leo slides a bit on the sofa, hair askew, skin sticking to the material underneath. He raises his other hand back behind his head, so both are holding onto the arm of the couch again. His cock is dripping against his stomach, thick and heavy and undoubtedly aching. "Cristiano," Leo says again, eyes flashing, this time warningly. "Now." 

He should look pitiful, sweaty and flushed and weak--but he doesn't. 

He looks delicious.

He looks strong and determined, glistening with sweat and lube, biceps bulging, lips set in a hard line--ready to take things into his own hands if Cristiano doesn't give him what he wants.

Cristiano licks his lips. "Whatever you want," he says, repeating his words from earlier, smoothing his palms down Leo's stomach. He straightens up on his knees and tilts Leo's hips up. Then he spreads Leo's thighs apart and rests them over his own. He can hear Leo's breath hitch as he inches into position, slicking his cock up with lube one more time. 

And then, with one hand guiding himself and one hand on Leo's hip, Cristiano pushes in.

He goes slowly. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, carefully pressing into Leo's tight heat, feeling him squeeze all around him. And God it's so good, and Leo's so tight--Cristiano forgot how tight he could be, how good he would feel--that Cristiano forgets to breathe for a few seconds and forces himself to take a shuddering breath. He wants to say something, wants to check on Leo, but he can't, all he can do is focus on not coming immediately like a teenager. "You--," he finally attempts, trying to ignore the intense pleasure pooling in his stomach. 

In the end, he can't even form a coherent thought. "Fuck, Leo."

Leo exhales slowly, hands digging into the arm of the sofa, back arching as Cristiano fills him entirely and bottoms out. He squeezes his eyes shut and makes a contented sound, practically melting into the cushions. "Mmmmm."

Cristiano grips Leo's thighs, probably leaving bruises from his fingers, wanting to thrust, frantically wanting to move, but knowing he has to wait. "Fuck, Leo," he says again, closing his own eyes, needing to look away from Leo's body underneath him. It doesn't help, because he's still buried inside of Leo's tight heat--he can still feel Leo's silky skin against his, can still smell the scent of sex and sweat all around them. "Can I--are you okay?" 

Leo sighs, letting go of the arm of the sofa behind them and reaching to rest his hands on Cristiano's hips.

Cristiano's eyes fly open.

"I don't--how do you make me feel like this?" Leo asks, panting, sliding his hands up Cristiano's stomach, gazing up at him wondrously. He traces the ridges of Cristiano's gleaming muscles, his fingers pale against the tanned skin. His dark eyes meet Cristiano's curiously, a hint of a smile playing around his lips.

Cristiano smooths his hands over Leo's thighs. "Like what?" he asks raggedly, still trying not to move, cock throbbing inside Leo. 

Leo drops his hands and turns his face to the side, lashes fanned out against his cheek as he closes his eyes. "Like I'm complete," he says softly, tugging on his own hair, obviously a little embarrassed. Cristiano moves his hips without meaning to at that, and Leo moans. "Oh! Like--like I was missing something before. And now I have it," he says hoarsely. He opens his eyes again, but still won't look at Cristiano. He stares unblinking off into the distance. "It's never like that with anyone except you."

Cristiano sucks in a breath, dropping Leo's thighs to lean forward. He braces his elbows in either side of Leo's head and reaches to turn Leo's face back to his. He runs a thumb over Leo's bottom lip. "You say that like it's a bad thing," he says, searching Leo's eyes for answers. "Like I don't feel the exact same way," he confesses, heart pounding. As Leo stares up at him, Cristiano shifts his hips minutely, unable to keep from moving any longer.

Leo's lips part in pleasure, hands curling into Cristiano's hair. "Do you mean it?" he asks, gasping as Cristiano thrusts into him gently. "Don't say it," he says, gasping again, "if you don't mean it." He grips Cristiano's hair tightly. "I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it." He squeezes his thighs around Cristiano's waist as they start to get into a rhythm.

Cristiano feels giddy, instantly setting to put a stop to Leo's insecurity by kissing him. His tongue darts along the seam of Leo's lips, pressing inside and searching out every corner of Leo's mouth. He's aggressive, forceful, trying to put all of his feelings into the kiss, trying to make Leo understand once and for all. He pulls back to breathe and looks down to see Leo's lips, red and swollen, plump from his kisses. "You're mine now," Cristiano growls, starting to speed up the thrusts of his hips. "You hear me?" he says as Leo's lashes flutter in response. "Mine."

Leo clings to him, breathing heavily. "Yours," he says obediently, his body rocking with the force of Cristiano's thrusts. He's sweating in earnest now, skin sliding slickly as Cristiano fucks him. "But you're mine, then," he retorts, pulling on Cristiano's hair. He pants desperately, shuddering as they move together. The smacking of their hips loudly fills the room. "It--it goes both ways."

Cristiano grins, face hovering over Leo's. "Of course," he says, nipping at Leo's lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way." He lessens the speed of his thrusts, instead going slow and deep, intent on hitting that spot that will make Leo see stars. And he does, as Leo inhales sharply and tugs harder on Cristiano's curls. Cristiano could chastise him, but instead he snaps his hips forward, driving his cock into Leo slowly and deeply once more. "Oh, and I don't share," Cristiano says, breathlessly, when Leo whines against him.

Leo shakes his head, hiding his face in Cristiano's throat, overcome with pleasure. His hands move out of Cristiano's hair, clawing frantically at his back. "Cristiano," he cries, digging his nails in, undoubtedly leaving jagged marks that'll sting tomorrow. And after another achingly, slow thrust, he bites down on Cristiano's shoulder, trying to muffle his moans.

At the moment, Cristiano's flying so high that he barely feels it.

But he kinda likes that Leo's marking, no, claiming him.

"That's right," Cristiano murmurs, baring his teeth. "That means *this* is mine," he says, holding himself up on one elbow and reaching underneath them to palm Leo's ass with the other. He squeezes hard, fingers sinking into the plump cheek, even as he snaps his hips, cock driving into Leo as far as he can go. Leo moans into his throat again and Cristiano heaves himself up on his knees, until there's some distance between them and he's able to gaze down at him. "And *this* is mine," he says, pumping Leo's thick cock, slick and red against Leo's belly.

Leo stares up at him with parted lips, arching under Cristiano's hand. "Yes," he mutters, "yes!" He reaches for Cristiano's waist, trying to pull him back. His eyes are huge, begging Cristiano wordlessly, fingers scrabbling against Cristiano's stomach. He can't get a good grip, fingers sliding off the Cristiano's abs--glistening with sweat. "Cristiano!"

Cristiano goes willingly, but he's not finished talking yet.

There's one more thing he's claiming.

"And this too," he says, tone softening, hand coming to rest over Leo's heart. "*This* is mine." Leo's hands link behind his neck, trying to pull him down, but Cristiano resists. He stops moving, stops thrusting, keeps his hand flat on Leo's chest. He can feel Leo's heart beating furiously, and Cristiano knows his is probably equally as rapid. "Mine," he repeats, smiling down at Leo, who nods and tries to pull him down again. Cristiano smooths his hand up to caress Leo's cheek. "All mine," he says gently, leaning in and brushing his lips against Leo's.

Leo opens beneath him, lush and sweet, gasping into the kiss. "Yours," Leo repeats fervently when Cristiano pulls back. "Yours." He frames Cristiano's face as if he can't believe his luck, hands hot on Cristiano's cheeks, his forehead, his lips. "Forever yours." His voice is hoarse from moaning, but ultimately heartfelt.

And Cristiano knows--he knows--things are said in the heat of the moment.

But this...

He means every word he's said.

And he has a hunch that Leo means his too.

They don't talk much after that. Leo closes his eyes and then opens them immediately, focusing on Cristiano, holding tightly onto Cristiano's neck as Cristiano begins to pick up speed and fuck him harder and harder. Everything becomes a blur of moans and gasps, Cristiano pressing Leo's knees to his chest, focusing on driving into Leo faster and faster, hitting that little spot time after time. 

He loses track of where his body ends and Leo's begins, both of them molded together, writhing as they spiral toward completion.

Leo begins shaking under him, skin beyond flushed, tossing his head from side to side, whimpering Cristiano's name. His nails dig into Cristiano's neck, unconsciously tightening his grip as Cristiano pounds into him. He's dripping with sweat now, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes brightened by the exertion.

Cristiano thinks he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Then Leo stills, pouty lips narrowing into an oval as he lets out a breathy "ohhhhhhhh." He clutches Cristiano closer, spilling between them, painting white stripes across Cristiano's tanned stomach. 

Cristiano doesn't stop moving, feeling as it smears between their bodies, Leo still spurting out in jets. Cristiano watches him, gleefully aware that Leo's come untouched--he's come without Cristiano dropping a hand to help him--because of Cristiano's cock, alone. 

Cristiano fucks him through it, gently rocking his hips, grinning as Leo moans beneath him.

And Cristiano doesn't mean to--he really doesn't mean to--but as Leo stares at him, moaning so prettily, squeezing around him and trembling in the throes of orgasm, he comes too. The fiery pleasure bursts through his body, and he jerks his hips into Leo over and over, filling him in until there's nothing left to come out. "Fuck," he groans, leaning hard over Leo, hips finally stuttering to a stop.

He knows he's heavy on top of Leo, but he can't move off him, can't raise off his elbows. He hangs his head, panting, trying to catch his breath. He can feel Leo release his grip on the back of his neck, fingers beginning to daintily comb through his curls instead. "Fuck," Cristiano says again, feeling his heart racing and trying to calm himself down.

Leo's fingers continue to card through his hair, occasionally sliding down Cristiano's neck to brush against his back. He's still breathing heavily, chest rising and falling despite Cristiano's weight. After a few minutes his hips shift the tiniest bit and he makes a pained sound.

Cristiano lifts his head, concerned, reaching down to where they're still connected.

Leo sighs, stopping him. "Ah, sorry, just," he murmurs, grabbing Cristiano's arm. "My leg is cramping." He grits his teeth and tilts his chin towards where his thigh is pressed up to the side. "Can you--?" He smiles, relieved, as Cristiano immediately pulls his legs down. "Mmm, thank you," he whispers when Cristiano begins to massage the muscles. He lays back, looking utterly exhausted, as Cristiano's large hands rub him gently.

Cristiano's careful, only stopping when he can see the tension disappear from Leo's eyes. He smooths his hands up Leo's thighs to his hips, marveling that Leo's so pliant beneath him. "Let's just..." he mutters, reaching between them to pull out. Leo hisses in discomfort and Cristiano leans over him. "Are you hurt?" he asks looking down, tenderly dipping his fingers past Leo's swollen rim.

Leo inhales sharply as Cristiano moves his fingers for a few seconds, obviously trying to decide how he feels. He frowns slightly when Cristiano removes them, now slick and messy. "Not hurt," he says though, reassuringly. "Just sore." He bites his lip as Cristiano wipes his fingers on the sofa, looking as if he wants to say more. "Do you have to leave tonight?" he ends up asking, running a hand up Cristiano's chest.

Cristiano leans forward again, pressing Leo into the couch. "Nah," he says, hovering over Leo's face. "Our plane back isn't until tomorrow night." He strokes his fingers across Leo's jaw thoughtfully. "Plus I'm Gareth's ride, and I assume he's staying." His thumb smooths across Leo's silky bottom lip, dipping inside his mouth slightly. Leo opens for him, pink tongue lapping at the digit teasingly. "Will you make it worth my while?" he asks, pulling his thumb out, now wet and shiny, and tracing Leo's lips again.

"Of course," Leo says, linking his hands behind Cristiano's neck again. He arches to meet Cristiano's lips, kissing him lightly. When the kiss ends, he sighs happily. "Rumor is there'll be pancakes tomorrow," he says, closing his eyes. He looks sated and content, shivering the tiniest bit as the sweat on his body begins to dry.

Cristiano smiles. He gathers Leo to him and turns them until they're laying on their sides on the couch. Leo's trapped between Cristiano's chest and the sofa and Cristiano has his back to the room. He reaches up and grabs a throw hanging over the back of the couch, using a corner to wipe off their bodies the best he can before spreading the rest of the blanket over them. "Well I don't want to miss that," he says softly as Leo cuddles into him.

"So you'll stay," Leo slurs out, mumbling the words against Cristiano's throat. He nuzzles Cristiano drowsily, voice barely able to be understood as his breaths start to even out.

Cristiano skims a hand up Leo's spine. "Of course," he murmurs, kissing the top of Leo's head. His lips linger, just resting against Leo's hair. "Of course."

And he will.

Because there's nowhere he'd rather be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know AO3 is having some difficulties with slowness and timing out, but please if you can, leave me a comment with your thoughts on this chapter :) xoxox


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a short epilogue... It grew a little. It's the morning after, which I don't usually write, but I thought worked in this case.
> 
> Anyways, this final part is dedicated to yulin, who is celebrating a birthday today! Happy birthday yulin! Thank you so much for all of your encouraging comments :)

When Cristiano opens his eyes the next morning, it's to see Leo staring back at him. 

"Were you being creepy and watching me sleep?" Cristiano asks, blinking slowly as he processes everything. He turns his head and cracks his neck, then arching an eyebrow when Leo doesn't answer right away. The throw has fallen down around their waists, and so Cristiano skims a hand down Leo's bare back, delighting in the way Leo shivers at his touch. He pulls him closer. "Well?"

Spots of pink appear on Leo's cheeks, but he smiles and lets himself be pulled into Cristiano's body. "Yes," he admits. "You looked so peaceful... It was nice." He flattens his hands against Cristiano's chest, fingers moving restlessly, unable to stop touching Cristiano's muscles. "I liked seeing you like that."

Cristiano tucks Leo's head under his chin. "Hmm? Well, I like seeing you like this." His hand traces up Leo's spine and threads into his hair, curling it around his fingers. "*This* is nice." They're both feeling cozy from being under the throw, comfortably stretched out and warm skin molded together on the couch.

Light is streaming in from the windows, signaling it's morning, and they can hear some birds chirping outside. If Cristiano listens hard, he thinks he can hear the sound of the water lapping against the sides of the pool. Other than that it's silent except for their own breathing, giving the impression that they're both in their own little world.

Leo's breath is hot against Cristiano's throat. "And you stayed," he murmurs, sighing, his lips touching Cristiano's skin lightly. "I'm glad." His hands slide up to Cristiano's shoulders and then back down over his chest. "Mmmm."

And Leo's lips barely touch him, but Cristiano feels his body reacting immediately anyway. He wants to turn and press Leo back into the cushions again, to kiss him until he's breathless, to move against that slim body until he's screaming Cristiano's name. They're both half hard, arousal simmering in their blood, bodies eager for more.

Cristiano desperately wants more. More of whatever Leo will give him.

And a sense of urgency fills his veins.

But that's just the thing.

He threads his fingers into Leo's hair and smiles, more feeling the puff of air against his throat rather then hearing Leo's little gasp of surprise. He tugs Leo's head back slowly, gently, until he can see Leo's face, and bends forward to kiss the corner of his mouth.

Because they don't have to hurry. 

They'll be able to wake up together like this again and again and again.

And maybe it won't be every morning. It'll be tough with their schedules, and their teams and all the traveling... But they'll make it work. And it will be worth it.

"Of course I did," Cristiano finally replies, feeling Leo's feet tangle with his. "You promised me you'd make it worth my while." He tilts his head back so he can see Leo's face again, even though he hates to move away from those tempting lips. "Ready to make good on that promise?" He grins as Leo's eyes darken.

Leo slides his hands up around Cristiano's neck. "Mmm," he says, "yes, but..." He looks down at himself. "I feel all gross." 

Cristiano does too, actually. He knows without looking that the evidence of their encounter last night is still smeared over their bellies, despite his attempt to wipe it off before they fell asleep. "Mmmm, me too," he says, hands settling on Leo's hips. "What do you say we hit the shower... And then go for round two." He smooths a hand back over Leo's ass, cupping one of the firm globes teasingly, unable to stay away from it for long.

Leo laughs, kissing him. "If you think you're fucking me again so soon, you've got another thing coming." He shifts, wincing. "I'm lucky we have international break. They're probably not going to let me play--because of my foot." He frowns and shrugs. "But I guess the break will give me some time to... recover." His smile comes back though as he looks at Cristiano. "But that doesn't mean we can't go have a nice soak in the tub." He walks his fingers up Cristiano's chest, playfully tapping Cristiano's chin, smiling sunnily.

Cristiano grins. "Whatever you want," he says, his other hand sneaking around to palm Leo's ass as well. "Mmm," he says, squeezing carefully, both hands now full of the cushy cheeks. "Love this ass." He kneads them slowly, groaning. "Mmmm."

He's dying to spread Leo apart and dip his fingers inside him again. To feel that velvety heat as Leo squirms and moans. God... But he doesn't know where the tube of lube disappeared to, and anyway, he doesn't dare to do anything like that while Leo's so sore.

Cristiano licks his lips. He can wait. Besides, there other things they can do...

Leo laughs and pushes him away. "Alright, alright. I get it. You love my ass." He uses Cristiano's shoulder and shifts up into a sitting position. "Ah, fuck," he says grimacing, and straightening. "Let's make that a nice, *long* soak in the tub." The throw pools down around his hips and he pushes it to the side, uncaring of his nudity. He raises a hand to his hair and combs his fingers through it, but it does little to fix his wild bed head.

Cristiano props himself up on his elbow and watches him. 

Because it is nice to wake up like this--knowing he and Leo have fixed things. 

And that they're both on the same page.

And, well, that they'll be able to wake up together over and over.

He really can't get over it.

Leo gives up on his hair and notices Cristiano watching. He quirks his lips and Cristiano laughs, stretching leisurely. "A long soak sounds good, Leo," he says, getting to his feet and picking up Leo's jeans. He hands them to Leo, along with his shirt, kissing him on the cheek and receiving a smile in thanks. Then he walks across the room to where he left his own clothing. He's quick to shimmy into his briefs and his jeans, buckling his belt and fastening his watch. He's buttoning up his shirt, frowning a little about the crusty mess on his stomach, when he looks over and sees Leo's barely moved. 

It's a slow process, with Leo obviously feeling some pain from the night before. 

And Cristiano's breath catches in his throat, because it makes him think. Makes him remember the last time he saw Leo wincing and moving gracelessly, all those months ago. Cristiano had been half asleep, but he'd watched Leo climb out of bed and stumble around in the darkened room--gathering his clothing and slipping into the bathroom. Leo had emerged a few minutes later, grabbing his keys and phone from where he'd left them the night before, next to the vodka and a dirty shot glass.

Leo's voice had been quiet, hoarse, when he'd finally spoken. And he hadn't said much. Not that Cristiano had blamed him. Leo had said he was leaving, and he'd turned down Cristiano's offer to walk him out. And then Leo had left, dark smudges under his eyes, face blank, obviously exhausted and trying to hide what he was feeling.

There was a lot that had gone unsaid.

On both sides.

But today, as Leo eventually gets his feet into his jeans and starts pulling them up, sending a reassuring smile over at Cristiano, Cristiano can't help but smile back. 

Cristiano's also rather distracted, his fingers pausing on his buttons as he sees the purpling bite marks he left from nibbling on the insides of Leo's thighs. He licks his lips at the little possessive thrill that shoots up his spine. His eyes travel up Leo's slim body, and he smiles at the faint fingerprints bruised into Leo's hips. 

Leo's oblivious to his gaze and unfortunately continues to get dressed, movements slow and methodical, as he focuses on his task.

Soon the luscious skin is covered again and hidden from his eyes, and Cristiano shakes his head. "I'm always going to be wondering about that now," he says quietly.

Leo flicks his eyes over, pulling the tshirt on and sinking back against the couch as if his actions have tired him. He frowns slightly and shifts, teeth worrying his lip as he tries to get comfortable. "About what?" he says, mouth now wet and shiny, running his hand through his hair in a second attempt to fix it. There are a couple more lovemarks on his jaw and the side of his neck, peeking out from the white fabric of his vneck.

Cristiano licks his lips again, sitting in the chair as he pulls his shoes and socks on. "Whether you're completely bare under there," he says lazily, getting to his feet once he's finished. He pulls his jacket off the back of the chair and saunters over to the couch. "Every time I see you, I'm going to imagine that you're going commando." 

He holds his other hand down to Leo.

Leo rolls his eyes, grabbing it and gingerly getting to his feet with Cristiano's help. "You're ridiculous," he mutters, flushing a little and pulling his jeans up a little higher as they sink down his hips. "Honestly, it feels really weird. I'm not doing this again." Then he laughs as Cristiano starts trying to slide his fingertips down under Leo's waistband.

"Are you sure?" Cristiano asks, feeling Leo's smooth skin under his hands. "Doesn't feel weird to me." Leo's loose jeans drop another inch, exposing his hip bones and Cristiano takes advantage, petting every part of him that he can touch. He wants to get down on his knees and--

Leo flushes, eyes sparkling. "Stop that!" He grabs Cristiano's hand and tugs him towards the door, but then stops and looks pained as stares down at where he'd toed off his shoes the night before. "Oh... Let me just..." He half heartedly starts to reach down.

Cristiano shifts his jacket so it's hooked over his arm and then bends down and picks the shoes up with his free hand. "Don't wear them," he says, shrugging. "It's a short walk and you're going to have to take them off in a few minutes anyway." He looks down at Leo's bandaged foot. "Looks like you're still swollen. No point in forcing your foot into your shoes if you don't have to." At Leo's nod, he tugs them outside.

It's a brisk morning and Leo immediately shivers, goosebumps appearing on his arms.

Cristiano rolls his eyes. "Wait," he says calmly, dropping the shoes. He turns Leo to face him and then drapes his jacket around Leo's shoulders and pulls his arms through the sleeves. Leo's swimming in it and Cristiano rolls up the cuffs slightly so he can use his hands. Never mind that the fabric isn't meant to be rolled and he'll probably never get the wrinkles out after this... 

But he likes Leo wearing his clothes.

And Leo's grin at him is worth it.

"Thank you," Leo says sweetly, rising on the tiptoes of his good foot to brush his lips against Cristiano's. He clearly means for it to just be a quick kiss, but his lips linger and he curls his fingers into Cristiano's hair. When he pulls back, they're both a little breathless. Leo stares up at him, smiling, hands sliding to grip Cristiano's shoulders. 

And Cristiano is struck, once more, at how perfectly Leo fits against him.

But then Leo shifts, and Cristiano looks down to where Leo's bare feet are on the cement. "Come on," he says, grabbing Leo's hand again. They're silent as the continue along the path, retracing the steps they took last night. When they're past the pool and approaching the house, Cristiano looks down at him curiously. "Think anybody's still here?" He lets go of Leo's hand and wraps his arm around Leo's shoulders, pulling him against his body as the path grows narrower.

Leo laughs up at him, curling an arm around Cristiano's waist. He shakes his head. "Nobody got a private room like us, if that's what you mean. Shakira probably would've kicked most people out." He smiles. "Of course there *was* a lot of drinking going on. She might have let a select few crash in the living room." 

They enter the house and travel down the hallway. There are a some interesting noises and a few voices coming from the kitchen, along with some delicious smells, but Leo guides Cristiano toward the stairs. "God, I want a soak," Leo murmurs as they approach, putting a hand on the banister. He looks apprehensively up the flight before him, probably not looking forward to the climb.

Cristiano squeezes his arm. "Sounds fantastic." He's got a foot on the first stair, ready to go and make use of Piqué's luxurious bathroom. He's already imagining Leo's wet, soapy body surrounded by foamy bubbles, writhing against his in the steamy water. 

Mmm...

Until his stomach rumbles.

"Ummm," Cristiano says, as Leo looks amused. "Pancakes and then the tub?" He rubs Leo's arm and tries to give him his best puppy dog eyes. "Please? Didn't you promise me pancakes?" He noses against Leo's ear. "Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes," he whispers, letting his lips brush Leo's skin.

Both of them are still wearing their clothes from last night, and they desperately need to bathe, but Cristiano's stomach doesn't really care about any of that.

Leo's laughs and ducks away from him. "That tickles!" he admonishes. "But, whatever you want," he says cheekily, inadvertently repeating Cristiano's words from the night before. He bites his lip and flushes immediately, obviously remembering, as Cristiano gapes at him. He doesn't give Cristiano a chance to reply, grabbing his hand and yanking him towards the kitchen. "I mean, pancakes," he says, flustered. "Pancakes. Mmmm, I'm so hungry. Come on, now."

Cristiano laughs, but follows him, tossing Leo's shoes at the foot of the stairs for later.

He grins even more when they cut through one of the rooms and he spots a few bodies sprawled out on the floor, clearly having been allowed to stay after the party ended. Most of them are still passed out and sleeping heavily. They're surrounded by empty bottles.

But Neymar is awake, still wearing his stupid hat, lounging on the couch with a blanket spread over his body and a pillow propped under his head. He must be well liked by Shakira, since nobody else seems to have gotten such comforts. His bleary eyes are glued to his phone, and he's clearly hungover, but he flicks his gaze over as they walk by.

Neymar blinks at them slowly, taking in Leo's bare feet, then their joined hands, and finally the jacket around Leo's shoulders. He opens his mouth like he's going to say something, and then shuts it sourly. He swallows hard, looking nauseated.

Cristiano purses his lips and blows Neymar a kiss, mimicking Neymar's actions from yesterday. It shouldn't feel so good, but it does, especially when Neymar groans and rolls over onto his other side, turning away. Cristiano tightens his grip on Leo's hand, grinning. 

Because Leo's his. 

And now everyone will know it.

Leo tugs him into the sunny kitchen where, lo and behold, Piqué is standing at the stove making pancakes. "See? Pancakes!" Leo says, smiling, pulling him over to the large kitchen table. 

Piqué doesn't notice their entrance, too focused on pouring batter down onto a sizzling pan. He's surrounded by bowls of blueberries, chocolate chips, and whipped cream, and the counter is splattered with flour, signaling that he's been quite busy.

And it's a bit of surprise, but as to who he's cooking for, there at the table feeding the baby, is Gareth. 

He looks fresh from the shower, feet bare and hair still damp. He's dressed in clean, clearly borrowed clothing. The Manchester United tshirt is a dead giveaway, really. Nothing indicates what he'd been up to the night before, except for the way he shifts on the pillowy bench on which he's sitting. 

Gareth cuddles the baby, murmuring to him quietly, and looks up in surprise as they enter. He stares at Cristiano and then Leo, raising his eyebrows and then nodding to himself as understanding dawns. "Good morning," he says softly, voice a little hoarse. The baby snuffles a bit in his arms around the bottle and Gareth looks like he wants to say something more, but he's interrupted by Milan.

"Hey!" The little boy pops up from where he'd been hidden behind Gareth. He's lurching precariously on the back of the bench and is currently playing with Gareth's hair. "Stop moving!" he commands, frustrated as he tries to gather some of Gareth's strands into a ponytail. He looks like he's trying to mimic Gareth's normal hairstyle without much success.

Gareth immediately stills, smiling at Cristiano and Leo as if this isn't the first time he's been scolded this morning.

Cristiano smiles back and feels tension he didn't even know he had leaving his body. Because seeing Gareth like this, sitting in Piqué's kitchen with Piqué's children? It means things couldn't have gone too badly last night.

Milan's voice is apparently enough to draw Piqué's attention, and the defender turns around and points the spatula at them. "Aha! I knew it!" he shouts, grinning deviously. He jabs the spatula in their direction and dances around, pink apron flapping dramatically, as Cristiano settles into a chair at the end of the table. "Aha aha aha!"

Leo smiles wryly as Piqué skips up to him and waves the spatula in his face. "You knew because I told you." He reaches out and swats Piqué away.

Cristiano laughs, leaning back and stretching his legs out in front of him. "Do you tell him everything?"

Leo blushes. "Not everything," he says, crossing his arms.

"Soooo," Piqué drawls, "how'd it go?" He scans Leo, smiling. "Looks like somebody's been gnawing on your neck, pulga." He wiggles his eyebrows up and down. "Must have been a good night. Let's hear all about it." He walks closer to Leo until he's gazing down at him. "Details!"

Leo laughs, shoving Piqué away entirely and trying to pull Cristiano's jacket closed. It does little to hide the hickeys blooming on his skin. "I'm not giving you details!" He goes and settles gingerly on Cristiano's lap, smiling as Cristiano wraps arms around his waist and holds him close.

His bare feet dangle adorably.

"Besides," Leo says challengingly staring at Piqué, "I'm not the only one in this room with some interesting marks on his neck."

And Cristiano takes a moment to thank Leo in his head. Because while Cristiano knows while there are scratches from Leo's nails running down his back and possibly some bite marks on his shoulders, there aren't any actually on his throat. 

Piqué, however, interestingly enough, is unable to say the same. 

"Still want to talk about it?" Leo asks Piqué, interlocking his fingers with Cristiano's. There's a smile playing around his lips as if he knows he's found his friend's weakness.

Cristiano likes this feisty side of Leo. "Yeah, Gerard," he says, tilting his chin and resting it on Leo's shoulder. "You might want to worry about your own neck." And he laughs triumphantly as Piqué splutters and slaps a hand to his neck as if he can cover up the little purple bruise halfway down the side of his throat.

Then Cristiano looks over to where Gareth's blushing and smiling down at the baby, trying to avoid anything to do with the conversation. He's clearly the one responsible for Piqué's hickey. Cristiano opens his mouth to call him on it, and decides not to, especially since Milan is blinking over at him curiously. The little boy smiles widely at him, hands buried in Gareth's hair. 

Cristiano smiles back.

But really, Cristiano's glad that he and Leo aren't the only ones who had a good night.

"Fine then!" Piqué shouts, recovering admirably. "No pancakes for you!" he yells, trying to figure out how to punish them. He backs away, brandishing his spatula as if it were a weapon and then sticks his tongue out childishly.

"He gets pancakes," Shakira says calmly, walking into the kitchen with a bundle of files under her arm. She smiles at Leo and Cristiano and brushes by them to set her papers down on the table amongst the dirty dishes. "Everyone gets pancakes. Don't they Milan?" she asks her son, winking over at him.

Milan nods enthusiastically, hands still pulling on Gareth's hair. "Pancakes!"

"Fine! He gets pancakes!" Piqué shouts again, shuffling back to the stove to flip over a few that are ready to be turned. The batter sizzles loudly and steam rises from the pan again. Piqué mutters something sing-songy under his breath that sounds less than polite. He smacks his spatula down and picks up a whisk, stirring through a bowl of batter furiously.

"I'll have blueberries in mine," Cristiano says seeing the bowls of fixings lined up next to the stove. He knows he's pushing his luck, but he can't help himself. He hides his smile in Leo's shoulder as Piqué slams the bowl down, grabs the spatula, and turns around to point it at him again.

"Are you going to give me details?" Piqué asks, face turning red as he clearly tries to steer things back towards Cristiano's night with Leo. It only makes the mark on his neck stand out more.

"Ha, no," Cristiano says. He tightens his arm on Leo's waist. Leo squirms a little in response and Cristiano lowers his voice. "Only you and me get to know about that," he whispers, lips grazing Leo's ear, gratified when Leo sighs happily in response.

Piqué looks like he's straining to hear them and frowns when he can't. "Well then, no pancakes for you!" He throws his head back and laughs maniacally, as if he were an evil genius in some ridiculous movie, oblivious to the way the rest of the room stares at him.

"He gets pancakes," Shakira repeats. She flips through some of her papers, scanning each one quickly and obviously looking for something. "Everyone gets pancakes." She looks back up with raised eyebrows when Pique scoffs loudly.

"My love, you are severely undermining my authority," Piqué says, stomping his foot and pouting. He ignores the laughter coming from the rest of them. Even Milan is giggling at him, and he's not even really listening.

"My mistake," Shakira says sweetly. "Are you in charge here?" She looks up from her file and gives Piqué her full attention. Cristiano grins into Leo's shoulder again, truly enjoying every second of this.

Piqué takes a step backwards. "Nooooooo," he says, sensing a trap. He realizes he's pointing his spatula at Shakira, and pulls it back towards himself, clutching it mournfully. He widens his eyes and tries to look apologetic.

"That's what I thought," Shakira says, grinning. "Alright, well, I'm late so I'll see you later." She turns to Milan, catching his attention as she gathers up some files and slings a bag onto her shoulder. "Milan, Uncle Leo is in charge." 

They all ignore Piqué as he stomps around the kitchen muttering Leo's name angrily.  
"Not daddy?" Milan asks, as Shakira approaches him and ruffles his hair.

She looks amused at what her son is doing to Gareth's head, but doesn't stop him. "Not when he's around the stove. Actually Milan, Uncle Leo and then... Uncle Cristiano."

Cristiano jerks his head up, shocked. "Uncle Cristiano?" he asks. He can feel Leo squeezing his fingers, but he can't look away from Shakira.

Shakira smiles. It's completely different from the look she gave him last night. "Uncle Cristiano," she repeats, looking between him and Leo, her files propped against her hip. "Because I'm sure you'll be sticking around, yes?" Her eyes narrow a little, warning Cristiano that he'd better answer correctly.

And Cristiano can only nod dumbly, arm tight around Leo's waist. He doesn't know what to say. But apparently he doesn't need to say anything. Because Shakira brightens again. She winks at him and then Leo, and Milan says, "Okay!" like it's the most normal thing in the world to be told that his father isn't in charge.

Shakira kisses Milan goodbye, then placing a gentle hand on Gareth's shoulder as she leans down to her baby. Sasha blinks sleepily around the bottle and she strokes his cheek carefully before straightening up. "Sweetheart," she calls over to where Piqué is grumbling. "Gareth is out of juice."

She heads out, high heels clacking on the floor, only stopping to peck Piqué on the lips before she leaves. Piqué accepts the kiss grudgingly, whispering something that neither Cristiano nor Leo can hear. Shakira laughs quietly in response, and then she's gone.

Piqué looks after her, stormy look disappearing. He directs his attention back to his pan, scooping off a few finished pancakes and adding them to a plate on the counter. He pours some new batter down and then immediately turns to the fridge, grabbing the pitcher of juice and coming over to the table. He ignores the empty glasses in front of Leo and Cristiano, and pours some orange juice into Gareth's glass.

Gareth quietly murmurs a thank you, reaching out to touch Piqué's hand. When he catches Cristiano and Leo looking at him, he pulls it back and returns his focus to the baby. Piqué stares at him, flushing again.

Leo hums consideringly, kicking his feet about. "I didn't see that coming," he says, turning to nose into Cristiano's hair. "They're cute, though," he says, voice full of laughter. His toes wiggle happily.

Piqué sets the pitcher on the table and turns to Milan. "How's it going, buddy?" He bumps Milan with his hip and watches him wobble atop the back of the bench. "You've been at this for quite awhile."

Milan pouts. "I can't get it to go into a bun," he complains, trying once more to gather Gareth's hair together. He sticks his tongue out in concentration and whines as more than half of the hair falls out from his grip.

Piqué nods seriously. "That's because Gareth's hair is silly when it's up in a bun," he says, ignoring Gareth's quiet "hey!" He threads his hands into Gareth's hair next to Milan's. "I know," he says, brightening. "Let's put it into braids." Milan giggles and the two of them go to work, making tiny little braids all over Gareth's head.

Cristiano and Leo watch in silence for a moment. Gareth looks over at them and widens his eyes, clearly asking for help, but he doesn't move a muscle, arms still cradling Sasha.

Cristiano looks at Leo. "I don't think we're getting pancakes." 

Leo smiles down at him, dipping to kiss him lightly. "I make a mean pancake," he says, when he lifts his head. He's a little breathless, cheeks starting to turn pink, and he can't look away from Cristiano's mouth.

Cristiano laughs. "Don't tease me about pancakes," he says, caressing Leo's hip. His stomach rumbles again, and he quirks his lips at Leo, only slightly embarrassed. Because really, he shouldn't want anything else when he has Leo's warm body perched delicately on his lap.

Leo leans in again, lips hovering over Cristiano's. "Oh, no, Cristiano," Leo says, voice dropping to a whisper. Cristiano shivers. "I'm only a tease if I don't follow through." Leo kisses him again sweetly, fingers stroking across Cristiano's cheek before sliding off his lap. He walks over to the stove and grabs the spatula, flipping over a few of Piqué's forgotten pancakes.

"And Cristiano," Leo tosses over his shoulder, winking, "I always follow through."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, folks. The end! I'm a little proud of getting it all finished before the next game between Barcelona and Real Madrid haha. 
> 
> "Winners Take it All" was one of my first stories in this fandom and actually, I started posting it on the kinkmeme back on November 11, 2014... So it's officially been almost a year. Amazing. 
> 
> I never would have continued writing if it weren't for all the wonderful comments and kudos I received. So thank you so much to everyone who has helped me along the way! 
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the end :) xoxox


End file.
